


Things Were Simpler Back Then

by pencilguin



Series: Fictober 2018 [12]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, F/F, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: Anju and her family have packed up their things and escaped Clock Town to the Romani Ranch. Cremia has offered a shelter from impending doom to her childhood friend here, but she needs to come to terms with some of her own feelings.





	Things Were Simpler Back Then

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr as part of the Fictober 2018 challenge. Unbeta'd; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there.

Cremia opened the door to the spacious guest bedroom and walked in, Anju and her mother following behind her. 

“And this is your room. I put in the extra bed—it’s just a foldaway, I’m sorry, I hope it’s okay for one of you to sleep on it; if not, we can find another solution, I’m sure …” 

Anju smiled warmly at her. Cremia could feel her heart rate pick up speed. 

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Thank you so much for letting us stay here.” 

“Of course—” 

“Yes, don’t you worry, girl,” Anju’s mother chimed in with her booming voice, making Cremia jump just a little. “Anju will sleep on the foldaway, she’s the youngest and healthiest of the three of us, of course. Granny will need a proper bed, naturally, and my back isn’t the same as it used to be, either. You’re fine with that, aren’t you, darling?” 

Anju didn’t even have time to open her mouth for a response because Romani’s voice sounded from the lower floor. 

“Granny, no! Wait!” 

What followed was a loud clattering noise. 

“Oh, no!” Anju’s mother cried out, rolled her eyes and rushed back down the stairs, shouting. “Mother! What are you doing _now_? I _told_ you not to stroll off on your own!” Her voice trailed off as she left, words blurring into an indiscernible tirade mixed with more clattering. 

“I see your mother hasn’t changed at all,” Cremia said dryly. 

Anju giggled and covered her mouth with her hand, that sweet, clear, bell-like sound that just melted her heart like the wax of a lit candle. 

“If anything, she’s gotten worse.” She lowered the hand and left it to rest against her chin. “I guess it’s decided then that I’ll take the foldaway bed.” 

Cremia looked at her best friend, praying that the desperately hopeless longing wasn’t too obvious on her face. As always, she could get lost in those ocean blue eyes. The warm morning sunlight sparkled in her red hair just like she remembered. Her soft skin, the slender fingers, her slim figure that concealed her strength, the graceful air with which she carried herself—everything about Anju was more delicate than her, more feminine, more sophisticated. Of course Anju worked at her family’s inn each day and it wasn’t an easy job, but there was always a difference between living in the city and living on a farm. 

“Or you could sleep in my bed, like you used to when we were little kids.” She didn’t know why she decided to say it, what made her feel so bold all of a sudden. 

Anju laughed. 

“I thought you had forgotten.” 

Cremia leaned against the doorframe with a nostalgic smile on her lips. “Never.” 

“We built a blanket fort and planned our adventures for the next day. Your mother made us hot chocolate.” 

Cremia closed her eyes and thought back. 

“We snuck out at night and climbed onto the roof to watch the stars.” 

“And then we fell asleep up there and caught a cold.” 

They both started laughing. 

“Yes, we did.” She gazed into the distance. “You used to call me ‘Mia’.” 

“I can do that again if you want.” 

Cremia looked at her, trying to read her face, but afraid of what she might find; or rather, what not. And if her cheeks turned pink, right now she really didn’t care. 

“Only if you want to.” 

Anju smiled but didn’t respond. “Can I see your room?” she asked instead. 

“Sure. This way.” 

They walked down the small corridor and she opened the door. 

“This is it. Romani’s is next door.” 

Anju walked in until she was standing in the middle of the room, then twirled slowly on the spot and looked around. 

“It’s beautiful. Feels very much like you. Warm and light and cozy. Like a home.” 

She twirled a little more and Cremia wondered if she was aware what those words were doing to her heart. Then she sat down on the bed. 

“It’s a double bed,” she commented. 

Cremia slowly sat down beside her. 

“Yes.” 

“But you sleep alone.” 

“It used to be my parents’ bedroom.” 

“Yes. I know. I remember.” She placed her hand on top of Cremia’s next to her on the bed. “I’m so sorry you had to lose them so early. I know it was hard for the two of you.” 

“We grew into it,” she quietly responded. 

Anju looked the bed over again. 

“It seems too big and lonely for one person.” 

With a sad smile Cremia said, “I know. But that’s how things are sometimes.” 

Anju lifted her hand from Cremia’s and rested both of hers in her lap, fidgeting a little. Cremia immediately missed the warmth of her touch but resisted the urge to reach out for her again. It took a while before Anju spoke again. 

“So … my mother was wrong, it seems.” 

Cremia looked up at her face. Her eyes were fixed on the hands in her lap but really looking somewhere far beyond that. 

“She was obsessed with this idea … this _crazy_ idea … She kept suspecting that once we’d come here, we might find Kafei. That he … that the reason he ran away …” A muffled sob escaped her trembling lips. “But I knew she had to be wrong. Because I love him, and I know he loves me. And you’re my best friend, and I know you.” 

Her shoulders drooped, shaking with more quiet sobs. Seeing her heartbroken broke Cremia’s heart as well. She reached over and pulled her into an embrace. 

“I’m so sorry for what happened,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this. And I _promise_ the moment I hear anything I will let you know. But I have not seen him, or spoken to him, since the last time I saw the two of you together.” There was a lump in her throat as she comfortingly stroked Anju’s soft hair, gently rocking back and forth to calm her down. It was little more than a whisper when she said, “My heart has already been lost elsewhere.” 

“I know,” Anju just as quietly replied, with her eyes closed and her head rested against Cremia’s chest. 

It was as if a heavy weight just fell off her shoulders, all those years of awkwardness and uncertainty and heartbreak melting away at last, leaving behind a deep relief, yet no less sad than before. 

For a long time neither of them spoke, both lost in their own thoughts about each other’s miseries and their own. Anju slowly calmed down at last, though the tears on her cheeks hadn’t dried yet. 

“I’m sorry that you can’t get what you truly want,” she said, and it sounded so sincere that Cremia wanted to cry. 

“Yes,” she muttered. “Me too.” 


End file.
